


Reload

by Uniasus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coran's the real space dad here, Earth, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Of course the Galra know about Earth, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-12 06:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11731455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uniasus/pseuds/Uniasus
Summary: Shiro always knew he drew attention as a Galra prisoner, from the soldiers, the other slaves, Zarkon and Haggar. But he never knew the result of it. Now that Black's refusing to fly with him, Shiro's determined to figure out what exactly the Galra did.





	1. In Search of Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> lalala, don't know where this is go~ing. But it's been on my mind for days. Post season-3 and NOT going with the idea of Shiro as a clone.

Often, okay, always, despite piloting the Black Lion, Keith still thought of himself as the Red Paladin. Red was the familiar lion, who reacted the way he expected. No, not reacted. Moved _with_ him. Keith had bonded with Red, he simply piloted Black.

Except, even with Shiro sitting in the pilot’s chair, Black had refused to activate. She still preferred Keith at the helm.

A choice, Keith knew, neither Shiro nor Keith liked or understood. But Shiro had long learned, and Keith more recently, that during missions personal feelings usually came second. And what was piloting the lions and Voltron but the longest mission in the world?

 _It’ll work out,_ he’d told Lance. _Just worry about the mission._

And yet, here he was worrying about his own personal issues.

Last time, the lions had made the decisions for them. Keith to Black, Lance to Red, Allura to Blue. They had all believed the decision to be temporary. And yet the lions had made no move to return to the predicted, desired assignment of paladins to lions.

Steps heavy, Keith stopped before Red. She sat on her haunches, particle barrier down, but she sat inert. There was no happy rumble of welcome, no sense of joy, no brush of hello against his mind.

Not that he didn’t sense her, Keith’s mind could feel her. Brush against her. But like a leaf on the wind, he couldn’t catch the connection.

Keith had the distinct impression Red was purposefully avoiding him. The thought hurt.

“I miss you,” he admitted to her.

Something brushed against his mind, a hint of _me too_ mixed up with _wait_.

Keith wasn’t sure he felt that right, because if Red missed him, why would she not say hello? Why did he still have to pilot Black?

Sighing, he patted Red on the left forepaw and left the hanger.

He turned to head toward the training room when he noticed a light coming from Black’s hanger. When he opened the door, he found Black lying on her belly, head on one forepaw, and Shiro sleeping against the other.

Keith paused in the doorway, staring. Shaved and with his hair trimmed, Shiro looked almost like he did before he disappeared. But, just like he had seemed different when Keith saw him after Kerberos, he looked different now too. Wane. Hollow. And not just from lack of food. He looked stretched thin, mind on too much at once. 

He’d been the same, after his first time in Galra hands, though the effect had been multiplied.

No one knew what the Galra had done to Shiro, either time, and Keith knew that haunted Shiro more than anyone else.

Now, asleep, Keith could see the cracks Shiro hid around the others. Shiro looked better now that he wasn’t scraggly, but he still moved the same as when they brought him aboard. Laid and fitfully slept the same.

  He hated this, seeing Shiro vulnerable. He was supposed to be the strong leader, that guy who had pulled Keith through the dark and made him see the good in life. Now, Shiro circled a black hole more intense than Keith’s mud pit his first year at the Garrison. Keith both wanted to help and didn’t want to see his hero so low.

With a blaze of purple light, Shiro woke up, breathing heavily and activated arm in a fist pressing into the hangar floor.

As Keith watched, Shiro took in big gulps of air. He looked at Black’s head, smiled before frowning, and collapsed back against a giant metal paw with a sigh. He ran a hand over the side of his head, fingering the short strands, before rubbing his forehead.

“Headache still bothering you?” Keith asked, stepping into the hanger.

Shiro jerked up, eyes alert and wary and scared snapping to Keith.

Right, Keith reminded himself. Announcing himself, telegraphing his movements, spooked horse voice. Shiro had been jumpy as hell when they first came to the Castle of Lions. Now, he was probably worse and just hid it better.

Still. Even staring at a lion of Voltron, Shiro’s mind jumped to _not safe_ before anything else.

Keith tried not to think of that.

“Keith, I didn’t hear you.”

“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Thanks.”

“Why are you sleeping here, anyway?” Keith sat down next to Shiro, far enough forward to not touch the metal of the black lion. “I mean, you haven’t left your room for a week, and you give it up for a metal pillow?”

Shiro smiled at him. “I didn’t do much sleeping during that week. And, well, before, Black helped me sleep. I’d feel her in my mind and it helped with the nightmares. Tonight…”

“You reached out to her, and she didn’t mentally answer?” Keith guessed.

“The opposite, actually.”

Keith started, turning to stare at Shiro. Shiro stared at Black’s sleeping head. Still inert, she gave no indication of being aware of Shiro’s presence. Curious, Keith stretched out his own mind.

No different than trying to connect with Red. Black was there, listening, but had no interest in a conversation or deepening their bond.

“I reached out from my room, mostly out of habit,” Shiro went on, “and there she was in my mind, purring. I came down here, hoping she’d open up the cockpit, but she wouldn’t. Wouldn’t tell me why either, just purr in my mind and sent me feelings of safety.”

Shiro rubbed at his head. “I don’t get it, Keith. She’s happy I’m here, she just…doesn’t want me to fly her.”

Keith frowned at Black.

“I don’t know if she wants me to either.” Keith ignored Shiro’s raised eyebrows. “I barely hear her in my head. I feel like I’m the best replacement for you she could find, but far from her first choice.”

“Closer than me,” Shiro said.

“She’s still talking to you. She won’t talk to me. Red won’t either.”

Shiro leaned his head back against Black’s paw. “We’re missing something that the lions aren’t.”

“What?” Keith scooted closer to Shiro.  

This was familiar. Talking out problems, helping Shiro think things through. Supporting, instead of leading.

Except, Shiro didn’t speak like Keith expected him to. Didn’t suggest ideas or point out facts.

Keith filled the silence. “You connected with Black from across a whole sector of space, your bond is obviously strong. She’s still talking to you, helping you. I think she wants you to fly her.”

“So why won’t she let me in?”

“Red won’t let me in. And Blue blocked out Lance too.”

“Yeah?” Shiro rolled his head over to look at Keith. “Why?”

Keith focused on Black’s eyes. “I think the lions thought, for the sake of the team, us switching was better.”

“So, me not piloting the black lion is better for the team?”

“It’s not like that,” Keith shook his head. “The lions might think that, right now, there’s something else you can do that’s more important.”

Shiro _hmmed_ , still staring at Black.

They sat in silence until Keith’s watch beeped. He’d missed his morning training session and it was time for breakfast.

“You coming to the mess?” Keith asked as he pushed himself to his feet.

“Later.” Shiro pushed himself up too. “I’m going to catch Coran first, see if I can get something for this headache.”

Keith eyed Shiro before nodding. They walked out of the hanger, then split ways.


	2. Do it Like a Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro corners the closest thing the castle has to a medical officer - Coran - and ask for help.

Shiro waylaid Coran in the hallway as the Altean left his room for breakfast.

“Number 1! Can I help you with something?”

“Actually, yes.” Shiro rubbed the back of his head. “This headache won’t go away. I was hoping you have pain killers?”

Coran narrowed his eyes at Shiro. “Same headache you’ve been having all week?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, let’s go to the pod room.”

Shiro followed the Altean. While the healing pods were the most efficient medical tool on the ship, more minor medical supplies were kept there as well. It wasn’t a medbay in the way the Garrison ships had them, with beds and monitoring screens, but served the same purpose.

While Coran dug through a cabinet that came up from the floor, Shiro closed the doors to the room and disabled the cameras.

“Shiro?” Coran said, looking up in confusion.

“I want to talk, and don’t want the other paladins to overhear this. And I don’t want to give Pidge the chance to find a recording.”

Coran nodded. “You still need the headache medicine?”

“Yes.”

Coran watched Shiro down a few pills before leaning against a healing pod. “What’s on your mind?”

“A few things, mainly those that don’t make sense. I’ve been trying to figure out why Black won’t let me fly her.”

“Shiro, the lions are –“

Shiro cut Coran off by holding up his hand, palm out. “I can still talk to her. Nothing’s changed, it seems like, except she won’t let me fly her and I’m trying to figure out why. And after remembering a few things, I think the answer, the answer might be…”

“Might be?” Coran pressed.

“The freedom fighters I mentioned who helped me? They said something about how no one escapes the Galra. It doesn’t happen. The first time I did it, I had help and I was relatively healthy. Fit, at least. This time, I had trouble walking and did it on my own. Going over my escape, I ran into almost no resistance in the hallways. One squad of drones. That’s it.”

“You think the Galra let you go.”

“I think there a good likelihood of that, yes. Why, I don’t know.” Shiro rubbed his forehead, the pills having not kicked in yet.

Coran stepped into his space, taking Shiro’s face between his hands. The Altean twisted Shiro’s head from side to side, up and down. “You think this headache is related?”

“Maybe. Something doesn’t sit right, Coran. I feel okay as I can be, but I have more glimpses of flashbacks now and…Coran, I was more than Haggar’s plaything. I think there was a purpose for what the Galra did to me. Something the Black Lion has picked up on that’s serious enough to prevent me piloting her.” Shiro finished in a whisper.

The horror of what had been done to him, why, or potential consequences had kept him up more than once. Nothing had ever happened though, so gradually the nightmares lessened in intensity.  But if Black was acting on the something now, it had transformed from a nightmare to a very real possibility.

“You’re worried about hurting the other paladins,” Coran guessed.

“Or sabotaging a mission. Or anything. I, I feel like I’ve lost all control and Black doesn’t trust me with the team anymore. The Galra had to have done _something_ to me during the months I was gone. Can you check?”

Coran frowned but walked over to the central console. He pulled up a few data files. Shiro stepped closer to read them.

“These are your records from when we put you in a pod after Keith found you. There wasn’t much physically wrong with you, mainly the wound on your leg and malnutrition. Exhaustion. Some temporary organ damage due to the lack of food and your limited air. Your body had started to shut down.” Coran pointed to the associated data points.

“I know it was close,” Shiro admitted.

“Another hour and you would have died due to lack of air,” Coran said.

Shiro winced.

“But other than that, these scans are as normal as Altean acid rain. Though, these are cursory scans. Nothing more than what I need to monitor someone’s health. I can compare these to your physical baselines, but I’m not sure how well that might explain something.”

Shiro frowned. “Can you take more detailed scans? On Earth we had x-rays, MRIs.”

“Certainly. Maybe not of the variety you’re thinking of, but yes.”

“Can we do them now?”

“You wanted to do this without the other paladins knowing, yes?”

Shiro nodded.

“They will certainly notice if you don’t show up to breakfast.”

The other paladins had jumped on his near starvation diagnosis. Every time Keith had pushed himself through Shiro’s door, he carried a tray loaded with food Hunk had made and threats from Allura, Pidge, and Lance for him to eat it all.

It’d been one of the few things to make him smile that week of isolation. And now that he’d left his room, they were all very aware of his meals.

“After breakfast, then.” Shiro turned to leave.

“Shiro,” Coran called out. “Are we telling Allura?”

Shiro pressed his lips together. “Not yet. If we find something, then yes.”

She had enough on her plate, Shiro didn’t need to add to it.

* * *

Shiro tried not to smile; it would give up the game of catching Lance and Pidge watching him eat. Hunk had very obviously watched Shiro’s first three bites, on the premise of wanting Shiro’s opinion of the recipe. Keith, on Shiro’s right, watched Shiro’s plate instead. If Shiro tried to leave before half of it was gone, he knew from experience the younger man would point it out to the rest of the team.

Dealing with those faces once had been enough.

Allura, thankfully, left him to himself. _You have your own way of healing,_ she’d said _I won’t step in unless I think you need help._

The food still tasted bland, a combination of the worry in his gut and his body recovering from a week without, but Shiro forced himself through it. For the team.

He quietly put his spoon down when his bowl of oatmeal-goo was half gone. Keith noticed immediately

“Did you want to try to train with us today?” Keith asked.

Shiro probably could, his stamina was shot but he needed to get back to his previous fitness levels, but the other paladins training was the perfect excuse for Coran to put him through a few scans in private.

“I might join you for warm-ups. Ease into things. What were you planning?” Shiro shifted his attention to Allura.

“Just physical training today,” she answered.

Shiro nodded. You could run scenarios all day, but if you couldn’t make it two minutes into a fight without your lungs screaming for air, tactics were useless. He said nothing about it being the exact type of training he needed, nor the only one he could fully participate in. No doubt, Allura would have them do physical training all week in a passive attempt to help.

He appreciated it, but he needed to figure things out first.

“I’ll join you for warm-ups for sure, then.”

Allura smiled at him, the rest of the team already complaining about laps around the hangers and shooting stars.

* * *

“Coran?”

Shiro poked his head into the pod room. Warm ups had been harder than he expected; apparently he’d kept up with strength exercises while captive but not cardio, and he showered before seeking out the red-headed Altean.

Coran stood in the center of the room, looking at a small star map. He didn’t react to Shiro’s entrance.

“Coran?” Shiro called again, stepping fully into the room.

This time, the Altean jumped. “Oh, Shiro! You’re sneakier than a slithering baax.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Shiro noticed the star map disappear. He didn’t press. No doubt, Coran’d been looking at Altea’s neighborhood.

“Ready for those scans?” Coran called up a healing pod.

A section of the floor slid away and a pod rose. Then, the pod tipped and its typical stand spread out and thinned. When it finished moving, instead of the upright tube Shiro was used to seeing, he faced a table with foot high railings.

“You don’t need to be in cryosleep for the scans,” Coran explained. “And I figure you don’t want to stand for the two hours it will take.”

“Two hours?”

“I’m running every scan I can think of. The more data, the better understanding we can get. Then, we should physically open your arm. I know Pidge and Hunk have looked through the software and basic components, but no one’s gotten a good look at the hardware.”

“I don’t know if my arm even does open.”

“Worth a try, anyway. I am familiar with the Galra tech of old.”

Shiro nodded. The idea of someone physically poking around his arm unsettled him more than connecting it to Pidge’s computer. But something had to be done. He needed to know.

“How long do you think this will take?”

“If we’re avoiding the other paladins? Maybe two days. We can finish the scans while they finish training. Depending on what happens this afternoon, we can open your arm then or tomorrow during training again.”

“Sounds good.” Shiro approached the pod. “So I just lie down?”

“Yup! You can nap, listen to music.”

“Can I access the cameras in the training deck?”

“Wanting to follow the other paladins' progress? Great idea!”

Shiro sat on the head of the table, the opening of the tube, and swung his feet over to slide down into the pod. With the glass retracted, he felt as if he was in an odd metal sleeping bag.

He laid still as Coran went around, attaching sensors and inserting needles connected to the pod’s inner working. Shiro could tell Coran did his best, getting Shiro a blanket and pillow, constantly chatting, and changing the lights so they were a soothing pale green. It kept the flashes of his time at the hands of the Galra at bay, skittering the edge of his mind but not overwhelming him. Still, Shiro concentrated on the ceiling and staying in the now.

_I’m on the Castle of Lions. That voice is Coran’s. I’m not on a Galra ship. This is a medical procedure, not an experiment. I’m not on a Galra ship. I’m not on a Galra ship._

He didn’t realize the two hours had passed until Coran helped him out of the pod and on to unsteady feet.

“You okay there, Shiro?”

“I – we’re done?”

“You were a trooper, we’re all finished! It’ll take a while to go through all the data, but I should have something later tonight.”

Woodenly, Shiro nodded.

“Here.” Coran helped Shiro sit down on the edge of the pod-table.

Shiro vaguely noticed Coran cover him with the blanket again and shove a mug of tea into his hand. Not chamomile, but an Altean mountain herb just the same. Shiro pulled the mug to his chest.

“You okay?” Coran asked.

“Yes,” Shiro answered. “It’s just…”

“Similar to what the Galra did.”

“Yes. No.” Shiro rubbed his forehead. “I know it’s not the same.”

“Knowing and feeling are often different.” Coran pulled down Shiro’s hand and dropped two pain pills into his palm. “It happens with all soldiers. We get used to living with fear and risk, adjusting back is a hard and slow process.”

Shiro threw back the pills and followed them with the tea. “I know,” he told the floor, “but I feel like I just leaped back to worse than I was when we found you.”

“We’ll get you straight, Shiro,” Coran clasped his shoulder. “We’re a team, and we’re all here to help.”

Shiro smiled at him. “Thanks.”


	3. Coast of the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coran's still digging through data, but he found something worth sharing with Shiro.

As luck had it, that afternoon had been dedicated to taking care of the Castle. Coran briefly checked in on Pidge and Hunk, who were trying to boost the particle barrier, before seeking out Shiro.

The former black paladin, along with Keith and Lance, had been tasked with looking over the Castle’s small fleets of shuttles. None of them were capable of a full flight, but everyone hoped to get a few up and running. Shuttles were handy little ships.

Coran stopped at the entrance to the hanger. Shiro sat in the pilot’s seat of a shuttle and through its open doors Coran watched him flip switches and press buttons, testing the systems as Keith made notes on a tablet. Lance didn’t seem to be helping at all, content to drape against the shuttle’s side and no doubt making comments that tried Keith’s patience.

It was refreshing and nice to see them all smiling. Keith had been so serious of late, downright gloomy, and Lance had switched from teasing Keith to sarcastic barbs. Despite stepping up as a leader and an XO, neither of the teens had slipped into the role easily. With Shiro back, Coran could see some of the tension had slipped out of the younger paladins’ shoulders.

Coran hoped his news wouldn’t destroy any of that. He stepped towards the group.

“I’m just saying,” Lance said, “Shiro’s new cut is loads better than your mullet. Maybe he can trim your hair, Keith.”

“There is nothing wrong with my hair,” Keith said with clenched teeth.

“It’s longer than Pidge’s, and she’s a girl.”

“Guys,” Shiro said with the exasperation of a parent, “the length of one’s hair doesn’t relate to one’s gender. But if you’re worried about split ends, Lance, I’d gladly give you a trim.”

“I’m not! I had Allura trim me two weeks ago!” Lance tried to look at the ends of his hair, but it was too short to reach his eyes. The action did, however, draw his attention to Coran.

“Coran, you gorgeous man, tell me I do not have split ends.”

“Hmm,” Coran twirled his mustache before leaning over to stare at Lance’s hair. He rubbed a few strands between his fingers, savoring the wide-eyed look on Lance’s face.

“No split ends,” Coran declared.

Lance caved with a huff. Keith rolled his eyes. Shiro shook his head at all of them, a soft smile on his face.

“Can I borrow you for a bit, Shiro?” Coran asked.

Shiro caught his eye, questioning, and Coran gave him a small nod.

“Of course you can, Coran,” Shiro answered. He slid out of the shuttle. “Keith, can you – “

Except Keith and Lance were already scuffling for the seat, both eager to play pilot while the other took notes on their findings.

Shiro gave an exasperated sigh but rose his voice to be heard over their grunts. “Guys, we’re done with this shuttle. Keith, if you could check the next. And Lance, if you could jot down your findings? Make sure you take detailed notes for Hunk and Pidge.”

Both boys turned to look at Shiro. Keith removed his elbow from Lance’s throat and Lance stepped off of Keith’s toes.

“Yeah, of course, Shiro,” Lance said.

“Thank, guys. I’ll be back in the bit.” Shiro turned to Coran. “Where to?”

“This way.” Coran led the way to the pod room, and like Shiro had done earlier that morning Coran locked the door and turned off the camera.

“I thought you said you’d look at my arm tomorrow,” Shiro said.

“Yes, no time this afternoon, but I found something and I didn’t think it should wait.”

Shiro collapsed onto one of the steps that ringed the room’s control panel. “They did something disastrous, didn’t they?”

“No, no,” Coran quickly reassured Shiro. “I checked for a chip in your brain first thing, nothing. But I’m still looking through everything. But to guide my analysis, I tried to image what they did.”

Shiro gave a low chuckle. “You could have asked me. I’ve got dozens of nightmares on the subject.”

“Yes, I suppose you do. But, Shiro,” Coran looked down at his clasped hands. “I also started to question _why_. You said you thought they did something your first time with them. And that was before you became a paladin of Voltron. Anything they did to you, it wasn’t to hurt us.”

“Then-“

Coran cut Shiro off with a hand in the air. He walked over to the room’s main console and called up a star map. “I’ve been looking at the maps on the Galra fighter we found you in. It’s rare that we get the chance to update ours. It’s ten-thousand years old, which the ship updated when it woke up based on distress signals it had received during that time. Allura and I update it, but our knowledge is limited.”

“You found something on the fighter’s maps.” Shiro’s voice was terse. Scared. No doubt, he knew exactly what Coran was going to say.

“It’s Earth, the Galra have started to invade it.” Coran brought up the Milky Way Galaxy and zoomed in on the Sol system. Earth rotated slowly, a purple color, with data points sticking out of the hologram.

“What’s it say?” Shiro came to stand next to Coran.

“Not much. The fighter simply had map annotations. All I know is that the invasion seems to have started around the time you found the Blue Lion. And that the Galra have known about Earth for years.”

Coran said nothing as he watched Shiro stare at the star map. Shiro’s eyes kept flickering, from side to side, from the map to his memories. It was painful to watch.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Shiro whispered.

“What is?”

“Putting Earth on the Galra’s radar. I was too good in the arena, of course they’d be curious about where I came from. I remember, remember someone saying ‘if only we had more of you’-“

“Shiro-“

Except Shiro wasn’t listening to Coran. In fact, he’d begun to hyperventilate and Coran picked up the signs of a flashback. Gently, Coran approached Shiro from the left and directed him to sit on the floor, head down. After a few minutes, Shiro calmed.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Shiro. Happens to the best of us. And for what it’s worth, I think the Galra knew about Earth before you were taken prisoner. Why else would they have been in that quadrant where you got kidnapped the first place.” Coran shrugged.

Shiro rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “You’re right. They were looking for the blue lion. And considering Keith’s heritage, someone from the Galra had been there before.”

“You see?” Coran said, still rubbing Shiro’s back, “Not your fault.”

“No, I guess not.” Shiro’s shoulders slumped. Then he turned to look at Coran. “Though I might be responsible for a store of old Earth stuff in a space mall.”

“That is a great achievement. It’s Pidge’s favorite store.”

Shiro snorted and Coran felt proud at himself for making the paladin feel better.

“The map marked it purple, Shiro. The Galra haven’t taken Earth yet. Humans are a hardy race. Look at what five of you can do! You took down Zarkon!”

Shiro gave Coran a small smile. “We had some pretty amazing Altean help.” Shiro’s smile slipped.

Coran cursed himself for not picking a different victory. Dealing a blow to Zarkon had been amazing, but they’d lost Shiro, and Shiro had gone through another set of horrors.

“You really think Earth’s fighting back? We’re pretty defenseless. More so, we don’t know there are other species out there. The Galra would rule in a matter of days.”

“Well, according to the records in that fighter, the Galra have been trying to control Earth for almost as long as you’ve been a paladin.”

“So, what? A little over a year, Earth time?”

Coran hummed and did a bit of mental math. The ship was on Altean time, and wormhole jumps played with time for those traveling through them. Instant travel for the Castle could mean days, weeks, or months for planets in the universe, depending on the distance jumped.

“A little more, actually,” Coran said, “A year and nine months? Ten?”

“Ahh,” Shiro said.

Because Shiro didn’t remember anything the last five months.

“There’s more, on the map.” Coran began, eager to share a positive find.

“More planets falling to Galra rule?”

“Not quite. This is a bit of good news.” Coran pushed himself to his feet to get to the star map controls. He zoomed away from Earth and the rotated the view of the Milky Way. “This planet is Koisven, not too far from you-“

[“Coruscant.”](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kepler-452b) Shiro stepped up next to Coran. On Earth, we call it Coruscant. It’s inhabited?”

“Yes and no. Again, going by the map, the Galra turned it into a mining colony around the time your mission was interrupted. No native intelligent life, but rich in ore. The funny thing is, the map had notes about there being rebel fighters on it.” Coran twirled his moustache.

“Rebel fighters? With a base on a Galra mining colony? Who is that stupid?”

Coran waited for Shiro to think it through.

“Wait,” Shiro extended his right hand to touch the image of the planet. “Galra mining colonies are slave run. They’re not rebel fighters, they’re escaped slaves causing problems on the planet. And –“ Shiro’s breath hitched. “It’s the closest planet to Earth with Galra presence. They could have taken Commander Holt there.”

“You can see why I wanted to tell you all this right away,” Coran said.

Shiro looked at him, eyes wet, and Coran could feel his own start to water. “I, yes. Coran, he could still be alive. Sam Holt could be alive.”

“Should we tell Pidge?”

Shiro stilled. “No,” he eventually said, “not yet. I don’t want to get her hopes up, and when I do tell her, I’d like to present a plan.”

Coran didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue either. Pidge, he knows, would be ecstatic to get the news. Yet Shiro, despite his time apart and Keith’s piloting of the black lion, is still the leader.

One who cannot participate in missions. Who has to sit on the sidelines, watch his fellow warriors commit themselves to danger, worry about disrupting the actions of the mission lead.

It’s a situation Coran is familiar with, and one he hates to see Shiro struggle with on top of being rejected by Black and worrying about what the Galra did. 

Coran used to lead platoons. Used to be King Alfor’s XO, commanding the Castle of Lions and all its crew while Alfor fought between stars or trees. He gave up the authority to Allura, the first time Shiro linked ‘Princess’ with ‘highest-ranking officer’. Gave up fighting alongside the rest of Altea when Alfor told Coran to flee with the Castle, Allura, and the black lion. And again when Allura didn’t choose him as a paladin.

When control slips from your hands, Coran knew, you clung to any you could find.

Allura latched onto piloting the ship, and then flying the blue lion.

Coran took control of operations, inventory and stocking and repair and everything he used to have a crew to do.

And Shrio?

Was it wrong of Coran, to want to give him control over anything in his life? To give him the news first, about Earth and Koisven, and allow him to make the choice? To give him back a small bit of power and purpose?

It wouldn’t hurt Pidge and the others to get this news tomorrow. Two days from now. A week from now. But having a bit of control would do wonders for Shiro. Already he looked a little more confident, less downtrodden. A little more hopeful.

“Whatever you say, Number One,” Coran answered. “This is your lead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random backstory for Coran I never expected to think? Okay, brain.


	4. March Caprice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's got a plan. Sorta.

Coran hadn’t found anything Hunk and Pidge hadn’t, which did not soothe Shiro’s nerves. Whatever the Galra, the druids, had done this time to him, it hadn’t been installing new tech. There was no chip in his brain, no extra wires from his arm to his head, no extra bits of hardware in his other hand, his legs, his hips or any place Coran looked. His blood held no drugs, though it did contain several alien anti-bodies Coran had cooed over.

The scans the pod took, ones Shiro mentally translated to CAT and MRI and PET and X-ray, were a different thing.

His arm gave off energy that destroyed any readings. Even in the X-ray, Shiro’s right arm had looked like a glowing white limb with the outline blurry and wide enough to make the edges of his ribs look fuzzy.

Coran had been limited to a visual assessment.

“It’s the same type of hardware,” the Altean had said, “based on the photos in Pidge’s notes. Simply newer versions.”

“Meaning what?” Shiro asked.

Coran shook his head. “More powerful, faster, greater range, more storage. One of the four. Technology might have come leaps and bounds from Altea’s time, but in the time span between your captivities, the Galra couldn’t have done anything drastic or truly innovative. Just small improvements.”

“And software?” Shiro asked, looking at the code streaming on Coran’s console.

“I’m sorry, Shiro. I’ve always been more of a hands-on person and my knowledge of software is limited. Between code rarely following speech patterns, and the Galran language shifting in the past ten thousand years, I can’t tell you what programming is on your arm. Pidge might be better, even with her limited exposure to Galran. After all, she can think in binary.” 

It was the software that scared Shiro. Software, he knew from his own experience, changed quickly. Updates and improvements, bugs and patches. On Earth, the software of devices around him changed weekly. Updates here, updates there. And while the training and simulation tech got older and older, software optimized how they performed, used the same equipment to test a multiple of scenarios.

No doubt, the software in his arm had allowed him to access to all the Galra ships and computers he had touched. Did his arm work as a login, allowing the druids to pinpoint exactly where he was and what he was accessing?  Or a tracker, allowing Haggar to find him within certain distances?

Was that why the Galra had found him first, after the battle with a suited Zarkon?

Shiro shook his head and walked into the hanger to see Black. He could use her grounding presence now. It’d been three days since Coran shared his news of Earth and Corusant. Two since his analysis of Shiro’s scans and exploration of his Galra arm.

And for the past three nights, the fear of what code could be sleeping in his arm, connected to his brain, Shiro had woken from the same nightmare about losing control.

Except, Shiro didn’t think it was a dream.

A memory.

From his first time in Galra hands, fighting in the arena. He’d stood, panting, over an alien who reminded him of a cat whose name he somehow knew was Y’hada. Shiro had won, Y’hada out cold from a blunt blow to his head. When Shiro made to turn away, back to the gate he came from, back to his cell, his right arm had gone warm.

In horror, Shiro watched his arm glow a radiative purple. Watched the fingers lock together as if magnetized. Felt the shift in his shoulders preparing for a punch, witnessed his glowing hand spear Y’hada’s stomach even as Shiro collapsed to his knees to automatically follow through with the shift in his weight.

Everyone in the Garrison had a role – pilot, comms spec, engineer – but everyone also cross trained to provide well-rounded crews. Shiro might have been in the pilot program, but he’d also been a linguist specialist and the medic on the Kerberos mission. He’d taken biology. Neurology.

How things were supposed to work was like this: the brain decided to do something and then told the body to do it. 

That night, the fight with Y’hada, Shiro’s Galra’s arm had overridden his brain. There was no other explanation.

_The arm_ had decided to end Y’hada’s life. _The arm_ had hijacked his brain, controlling the rest of Shiro’s body to allow the prosthetic to bury itself in Y’hada’s gut.

_The arm_ could exert full control over Shiro’s body.

And yet, knowing this, Black had still chosen to bond with Shiro. Allowed him to be her paladin, to fly her. So why was now different?

Had he been out of range of the druids, before, and so Black thought he was beyond their control? Or had something new been slipped into the code of his arm, something more malicious than the ability to control Shiro’s body?

“What am I missing?” Shiro said, staring up at Black’s sitting form.

_Peace/love/wait_ echoed through their bond. Yesterday, it had been comforting. Helped him fall back asleep.

Tonight it made him frustrated.

“Nothing drastic changed!”

_Peace/love_ and a new emotion. _Uncertain/protective._

Shiro took in a sharp breath.

Black and he really were alike. They had bonded rather quickly, and now Shiro hit himself for not seeing the connection in their motivations. Shiro’s concern about keeping the other paladins safe wasn’t just his. Black worried too.

“Are you protecting me, or them?”

In answer, Black rumbled in his mind. She crouched down, opened her mouth. Shiro walked inside and sat in the pilot’s chair. He halfway expected the control panels to light up, but they didn’t.

Black still believed Shiro shouldn’t fly her, which made Shrio feel the same, which –

He shook his head. Shiro and Black could spiral, but he didn’t want that. Sad and confused, Shiro rubbed his fingers over an armrest. Black responded by sharing memories. Shiro diving towards a Arus’s surface with his eyes closed, Black showing up on the astroplane to fight Zarkon. A sense of completion on both their ends when Shiro slid the black bayard into the slot.

_Mine_ came over their bond, an echo bouncing between both their minds, and it soothed something in Shiro to be claimed like that. To know Black still cared.

_Always._

“Me too,” Shiro whispered.

He sat there, not thinking. Just staring out of the windows of Black’s eyes, seeing but not seeing the walls of the Castle.

Something _had_ changed. The Galra _had_ done something. But what, no one would be able to tell until it was possibly too late. He had to discover what happened or –

“Shiro?”

Shiro jerked at Keith’s voice.

“Shiro? Are you in there?”

With a groan, Shiro pushed himself out of the seat. He absent-mindedly gave the wall a pat on his way out of the lion.

Keith stood before Black, hands in his pockets and looking hopeful. “Is she going to let you fly?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, sorry. You’ll have to pilot her a little while longer.”

“Has she said why?”

“Yes.”

“And?” Keith pleaded.

Shiro gave Keith a long look. He’d known the kid ages; the little brother he’d never had. He taught Keith how to fly. How to move beyond his need to prove himself to his father. Keith was the one person at the Garrison Shiro had opened up to, too worried about his image to tell his classmates his problems.

In the few years they’d known each other, Shiro had supported Keith almost as much as Keith had supported him. It was how Shiro had known Keith could fly Black.

But never, never had he seen Keith actually lead. Be responsible for someone else. As much as Shiro trusted the team in Keith’s hands, it really had been unfair to give him the task with no preparation.

“She told me no for a reason I can’t blame her for because I would do the same.”

“What?”

“Protecting you all. And because of that, I’m leaving the Castle for a while.”

“What?!” Keith clutched Shiro’s jacket. “Shiro, you can’t leave. I just got you back. I need you here, to help me lead Voltron-“

“I know,” Shiro said softly. “But whatever the Galra meant to do with my arm, they activated the third stage. What that is, no one knows, but there’s the risk it means I might put you all in danger during a mission.” He placed a hand over Keith’s, another on the younger man’s shoulder. “Besides, didn’t you say this was a sign I was meant to do something else? Something as equal, or more important, as piloting Voltron?”

“What could be more important than saving the universe?”

“Nothing. I’m just…saving a different part.”

Keith frowned in confusion.

“I’ll explain in the morning,” Shiro said, freeing himself from Keith’s grip. “For once, I think I’ll be able to sleep soundly and I don’t want to waste these hours.”

He headed towards his quarters, Keith silent and on his heels. When Shiro made to step through the door into his room, Keith caught his wrist.

“Whatever you’re doing,” Keith said, looking Shiro dead in the eye, “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course. It’s the edge of Galra space. Far away from druids and Lotor and all of this mess.”

Keith nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

* * *

Shiro’s insomnia usually meant he was up and wandering into the kitchen hours before everyone else. And yet, here they were, terse and sleepy-eyed and cautious.  No doubt, Keith had woken up and said something to the others because they all looked on edge. Coran, the only one who knew what was going on, had dragged Allura to the table. With her hair in disarray and the Castle refusing to translate her mumbles for Shiro, he guessed Coran had simply pulled her out of bed without an explanation.

“Space coffee?” Hunk offered, handing over a steaming mug.

Shiro took it. “Thanks. You’re all up early, trouble sleeping?”

“Yes,” Keith grumbled. He was mostly drowned out by the others’ fake cheer of early rising (Hunk) or complaints of being pulled from bed (Lance) or annoying commands (Pidge). Even Allura mentioned something about being forced, and now that Shiro looked Coran did have the beginnings of a bruise on his face.

Impatient, Keith leaned into Shiro’s space. “So?”

“What, no food first?”

That caught them all, still vigilant about making sure Shiro recovered from starvation.

“Food first,” Hunk echoed, turning back to the stove. “It’s almost done.”

Pidge settled on the seat at Shiro’s left, the right claimed by Keith, while Lance sat on Pidge’s other side.

“You look better,” Pidge said. “Like you slept.”

“I did,” Shiro answered. “Half the night at least.”

Lance whistled. “What’s your secret?”

Shiro shrugged. “Black and I had a bit of a chat. I realized we see eye to eye about some things.”

“Such as?” Allura asked, alertness peeking through her sleepy face.

Shiro noticed they all snuck glances at Keith, who shrugged, before eyeing Shiro intently.

“Are you flying Black again?” Lance asked.

“No,” Shiro shook his head. “Or at least, not yet. Not until…”

“Until what?” Keith snapped.

“Until we’re both sure I’m safe.”

Keith’s face crumpled, even as Pidge spoke up brightly. “Did you want me and Hunk to look at your arm again?”

“No, Coran and I did everything already.”

“Then what-“ Lance said, only to be broken off by Hunk forcing his way into the space.

“Breakfast!” Hunk said with forced brightness. He set down plates in front of them all.

Like most meals this week, the food was heavily based on a B.R.A.T diet and stayed away from richness to enable Shiro’s stomach to handle the change back to regular food. Still, even without the additives of blueberries, chocolate chips, or whatever additive Hunk found in space, the plain pancakes were amazing. Lance wolfed his down, but Shiro took his time eating. Keith watched every bite, as did Pidge who didn’t seem to realize she had synced to Shiro’s eating pace.

As was the new norm, Shiro didn’t finish his whole plate. Once he pushed it away, he waited a few minutes for the rest of the team to finish before clearing his throat.

 Instantly, he had the attention of the other six people in the room.

“Coran and I have been doing some digging into the data on the hard drive on the Galra fighter you found me in.”

“Find anything?” Allura asked, looking between Coran and Shiro.

“Some,” Coran admitted, “though nothing about Galra plans. Though we now have a complete understanding of their fighters and an up-to-date star map.”

“It’s the star map that caught my attention.” Shiro turned to Pidge, taking each of her hands gentle in one of Shiro’s. “Katie, we have a lead on your dad.”

Pidge’s eyes teared up. Between the water and her glasses, they looked huge and made her look two years younger.

“Really?” she whispered.

“Really,” Shiro answered.

“We can go save him?”

Shiro winced.

“No ‘we’, Pidge.”

“Well, why not?” Pidge pulled away, fuming. “He’s _my_ dad. _My_ family. I should be the one to rescue him.”

“Pidge-“

Pidge cut him off. “I’m not, not, going to sit on the sidelines while my _dad_ is rescued! I’m helping.”

“Pidge, you can’t,” Shiro pleaded.

“Yes I can!”

“And what about Voltron?” Allura asked.

All heads turned to snap in her direction.

“That why you stayed back, before, yes?” the princess continued. “Because Voltron needs you.”

“Well, Voltron can go save my dad’s ass.”

“No. It can’t.”

Shiro turned to Keith in surprise.

Pidge turned to him with a snarl. “You can’t tell me what to do-“

“No, but I can tell you what would happen if Voltron were to suddenly leave this sector,” Keith shot back. “We’re putting together an alliance that is heavily dependent on Voltron’s presence. Lotor is out there, doing who knows what. He’s got a ship as powerful as a lion, with an ace pilot. He’s planning something with a teleduv, and now that we know he’s half Altean, there’s a good chance he could actually use it. Voltron can’t leave on some personal mission. We’ve got more to worry about.”

“Dude, harsh,” Hunk said.

“But true,” Shiro said, nodding at Keith. That was the hard thing about being a leader – you could never do what you wanted, be who you wanted. You weren’t first priority. Everyone else was.

“No way,” Lance slashed his hand through the air. “Family first. That’s always how it goes.”

“And the universe?” Shiro asked. “Travelling to the edges of Galra space, abandoning those here who are fighting, on the chance Commander Holt’s still alive?”

Pidge drew in a sharp breath. Shiro immediately turned to her.

“Katie. Coran and I only found a planet we think they might have taken him too. We don’t know if your dad’s there, or was there, or alive. We have no information.”

“Green’s invisible, I could –“

Shiro pulled her to his chest. “Sometimes things are bigger than us or our dreams. Defenders of the universe. That’s us, and it’s so much bigger than our individual desires.” He pushed her away, trying to ignore the tears on her eyelashes. “Even looking for me, didn’t missions take priority?”

The entire kitchen went still. While they hadn’t thought about it that way, Shiro was sure, it still rang true. It was why Keith piloted Black, Lance Red, and Allure Blue. Voltron, the universe, came first.

“You don’t need me here,” Shiro brushed away one of Pidge’s falling tears. “But your dad might need me, so I’m gonna find him.”

“We do need you,” Lance spoke up. “We’re whole when you’re here. Keith needs help,” Keith bristled but said nothing, “and you’re better at all this stuff than we are.”

“Yeah,” Hunk echoed. “We need you, Shiro.”

Shiro shook his head. “Not to pilot Black. Not for Voltron.”

No one had an answer for that.

Allura politely cleared her throat. “So, do you have a plan?”

Shiro looked at her over Pidge’s head. Her expression was closed off, but he could guess what she was feeling. She didn’t want him to go but saw the sense.

“The closest mining colony to Kerberos is slave run. But the guards are having a little trouble with a sect of insurgents I think are made of slaves who escaped. I go, gather information, and then shut down the mines.”

“By yourself,” Allura said.

“Yes,” Shiro answered.

“You’re not going alone,” Keith snarled.

Shiro frowned at him. “All of you are needed here.”

“Take Coran.”

“As happy as I would be to accompany Shiro, you need someone to look after the ship. And fly it during battles.” Coran twirled his mustache.

“What about the Blade of Mamora?” Lance asked. “We’ve worked well with them, these past few months. They know you, Shiro. And if you’re going to a Galra planet, you could use the help to blend in.”

“That’s…a good idea, Lance.” Keith sounded surprised those words came out of his mouth.

Shiro was too, to be honest. He’d planned to go alone, primarily because if something did activate based on what the Galra had done to him, his ability to do damage to the opposition would be limited. Going by himself removed a potential threat from the Castle of Lions, while simultaneously giving Pidge a chance to see her father again.

“I second it,” Allura said. She spoke in her “princess” voice, more command than statement.

Coran, Hunk, and Pidge were quick to add their approval. Shiro was stuck with a Blade of Mamora co-pilot.

Shiro slowly nodded. “We’ll contact the Blade today then and ask for volunteers for a two- man mission. In the meantime, how’s hand-to-hand combat sound for training this afternoon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cuz I figured people would ask:
> 
> The Garrison seems to favor three-man teams for all missions. And, like those going to visit the ISS or visit Mars, personnel should have more than one specialty/task. I see them each with a primary role, through crosed-trained with the others, with a secondary role and a subject specialty. For the Kerberos mission, assigned them the following roles:
> 
> *Shiro's primary role is pilot, with a secondary one as the mission medic and an expertise in linguistics. Mainly because I headcanon his ability to take care of his own wounds in the Arena (what Galra would help) and picking up the Galra's language and that of his cellmates quickly. Everyone speaks English in the show, but I doubt that's actually the case. And before you say "ship translators" I refuse to believe the slave pens had such tech - it would allow organized resistance/sharing of information between slaves which I believe the Galra would want to avoid.
> 
> *Matt Holt's primary role is the mechanical engineer (Pidge went into comms almost entirely to 'not be like Matt'), with his secondary role as quartermaster (manages supplies, inventory, and samples) and an expertise in geology. He's got the most experience with scientific equipment, and to study astrogeology from Earth he's also got a fair background in math, physics, and chemistry. You need a lot of info to figure out what the data from remote sensing gives you. Matt's classes were very much aligned with this text book. <http://marswatch.sese.asu.edu/rsm.html>
> 
> *Sam Holt's primary role was the comms spec with a secondary role as software engineer. (He was more into writing software application, where as Pidge more deep dives into communication systems and signal analysis). His official expertise is chemistry, but as he continued with the Garrison he also studied psychology. While Kerberos's mission was to learn more about Kerberos, it was also a people study. Missions in the history of space flight have been longer, but they involved larger crews and larger spaces. This is the first time three officers would be awake all at the same time and stuck in such a small space for so long. Sam was to help alleviate conflicts and prevent them from going made/killing each other as well as help Matt with chemical analysis.


	5. A-Roving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/Ns in underlined text that are maybe spoiler-y, and more stuff at the bottom.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry. Heartfelt emotion is not my forte. Give me angst any other day of the week.

Keith scowled, looking over Pidge’s and Hunk’s shoulders as they worked on the Galra shuttle. “You sure this is ready?”

“Yes,” said Pidge, annoyed.

“And we’ll stuff it with extra rations,” Hunk added.

“Did you boost the communication range?”

Pidge turned to glare at Keith. “I’m a comms expert. Of course I boosted the range. Times two. And even if I hadn’t, well,” she shrugged. “Shiro contacted Black from three sectors away, which is longer than this can handle.”

Keith grumbled and crossed his arms. “He only reached out that far because _he was dying._ If Black had picked up his signal an hour later…”

He had thought Shiro pinned down by the Garrison on Earth, newly scarred and with a metal arm had looked rough. But it had been nothing compared to how Shiro had looked when they found him. Thin. Scruffy. Desperate.

It hadn’t been that long, maybe three weeks since Shiro had been reunited with the team. He still had weight to gain, muscle to build. Tricks to help him sleep to relearn.

Keith knew he was hovering over a man a few years his senior, who’d been through hell twice and didn’t need hovering, but he couldn’t help it.

At least he wasn’t alone in his worrying. The rest of the team were hawk-eyed when it came to Shiro’s health, and even Pidge had suggested more than once to delay the trip.

Pidge. Whose father was most likely on the mining planet Koisven.

Keith had overheard her more than once saying the shuttle wasn’t done, that is was more complicated to update and expand and outfit with better tech. They had all rang with the hollowness of excuses. Shiro had forced Hunk to help her, and then Kolivan had offered to help too.

Things sped up after that.

Despite the possibility of finding Samuel Holt thrumming in her veins, Pidge probably felt the same way that Keith did.

That they couldn’t lose Shiro a third time.

Keith hadn’t wanted to voice the very logical thought that the chance of Commander Holt being alive was slim. But he knew no academic, no matter how military fit, could last long in an alien mine. Not after pushing three years. 

But hope had kept Keith going for the five months Shiro had been missing. And for a year before that. He wouldn’t take it away from Pidge, even as he woke up to nightmares about getting a distress call from Shiro and arriving too late.

“I just want him to be safe,” Keith admitted.

Pidge sighed and Hunk clapped a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“So do we,” the yellow paladin said. “We improved the communications on this. The fire power. The shields. The storage space. Even added padding to the chairs and seat belts. Shiro’s important to all of us, Keith, don’t forget that. None of us are super happy about this.”

“Yeah,” Pidge deadpanned.

Keith flinched.

There’d been several conversations between the younger paladins the past few days about joining Shiro’s missing, but nothing had been brought to the whole group for a re-evalutions. Mostly because they knew the answer wouldn’t change.

Shiro and a Blade, Kolivan, would check out Koisven by themselves. Voltron would continue to build the alliance and try to determine Lotor’s plans. Shiro would come back to them.

He’d also been forced to contact them once a day.

The only one remotely pleased by the arrangement was Shiro.

“We’re gonna have to let them leave tomorrow. There’s nothing else to delay them,” Hunk said.

 _No more time for Shiro to heal,_ Keith heard. _You have to deal with a potential last goodbye._

The only one he knew ahead of time about, which was not a comforting thought at all.

“I’m going to make a special farewell dinner,” Hunk continued, wiping his hands on his pants. “Can you two clean up?”

Keith looked around the shuttle. There were bits of hardware lying about, cloths and tools and snack wrappers. It shouldn’t take too long. “Yeah.”

“Thanks.” Hunk gave them both a wave as he left.

Sighing, Pidge began picking up the tools. Keith started on the snack wrappers. They worked in silence, leaving the shuttle one after another with full arms.

“I hope Shiro comes back,” Pidge whispered before they separated.

“I hope he returns with your dad,” Keith returned.

* * *

Keith supposed, technically, breaking into another paladin’s room was trespassing. But they were in space, there was no law enforcement, and as Lance would say – they were in unclaimed, intergalactic waters and so pirate and were expected to break every rule.

It didn’t mean Keith didn’t feel shitty breaking into Shiro’s room.

But dinner had been boisterous, goodbyes and well wishes, followed by last minute planning between Kolivan and Shiro while Hunk and Pidge showed off the shuttle. Keith had wanted an unobserved goodbye, and the only way to do that would be to ambush Shiro in his room when he got ready for bed.

Keith already knew this room inside and out. He’d sit in here for hours while Shiro was gone, unashamedly gone through his stuff to find a clue to where he might be. Not that it has helped. None of them had actually brought anything other than the clothes on their backs. Their possessions all boiled down to trinkets picked up on missions or space markets.

Keith had only a vague idea of Shiro’s past before entering the Garrison, but he knew it involved foster families and a lot of moving. Very different to Keith’s own childhood of being spoiled with everything he asked for by a father who paid him little attention.

As a result, Keith had filled his room with a bunch of useless knick-knacks, trying to replicate the full house he grew up. And Shiro’s room stayed bare, easy to pack up and leave behind.

It had made him a favorite for pilot missions, even as a cadet. No family to work around.

Keith snorted to himself. Shiro had a lot of family to consider now, though he had brushed most of their concern off.

“Keith?”

He looked at the door, where Shiro stood in the opening.

“Everything alright?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah,” Keith answered. “I just, I wanted to say a real goodbye.”

“Okay.” Shiro stepped into the room and sat on the floor next to Keith, leaning his back again the bed.

“I’m only saying this once,” Keith said.

“Okay.” The laughter in Shiro’s voice made Keith scowl.

Shiro caught on to the seriousness of Keith’s mood. He quieted, shifting closer. “What is it?”

“It’s just,” Keith played with the edges of his gloves. “Every time we separate, I don’t get to say goodbye, which means you don’t know.”

“What don’t I know?”

“I-“ Keith swallowed his tongue. “I – thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yes, thank you,” Keith snapped.

“Well, thank you too. For saving me. Twice now.”

“Shut up, Shiro. I’m trying to say something.”

“Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a moment, Keith struggling to gather his thoughts. More like, how to put those thoughts in words.

“Shiro,” Keith began, “you’re important to me. Really important, because of what you did for me at the Garrison.” He stopped, waiting for Shiro to say something, but when he didn’t Keith kept going. “And I don’t mean teaching me how to fly. I mean,” Keith shrugged. “Caring. No one had done that before. Not really.”

“Keith-“

“Not done yet!”

Shiro leaned away, then pressed closer. Keith _humped_ but allowed it.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to really kill myself, you know. Back then. It was one of those over whiney teen things to say, but you believed it and cared and – you’re not the first person I’ve wanted to make proud, but you’re the first I thought I could. You’re the first person to make me feel happy. And – and I needed you to know that. In case you don’t come back. That you’re important. To me. And that I’ve missed you a lot when I thought you were gone, both times. And I don’t -” God damn it, his breath hitched “I don’t want to lose you again. I mean, I’ll find you, just like before, but I really rather you didn’t.”

Shiro pulled Keith in close and Keith let him, curling up into Shiro’s chest and clinging tight to the fabric of his shirt. He refused to cry, he was nineteen, damn it. There was also no reason to cry, Shiro was here, safe, and even once he left Pidge and Hunk had made sure the shuttle was the safest thing in space, aside from a lion. And he’d have Kolivan, who, after working with him for months, Keith trusted to have Shiro’s back.

The Blades of Mamora had helped Shiro before. They’d do it again. Keith just wished they didn’t have to.

“I missed you too,” Shiro said, chin on Keith’s head. “I was happy you were safe from it all. You're part of my best memories from the Garrison. And then sad when I dragged you into this, but so thrilled to be with you. Your family, Keith. Always have been. And if something does happen, knowing you’ll find me is a balm. But I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to find me.”

A promise to try. Which Keith knew was probably the best anyone could get in this situation.

“Okay,” Keith whispered.

They stayed like that on the floor, for how long Keith didn’t know.

“Thank you. For telling me,” Shiro said, half asleep.

Keith snuggled in closer.

They fell asleep like that, tangled on the floor, and woke up to stiff necks. But both of them had slept through the night, a rare thing, and when Shiro took off in the shuttle with Kolivan a few hours later, Keith felt a touch better about it than he had the previous night.

Now. Time to hunt down Lotor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Timing.** I don’t know what the official time span is, but I put the end of Season 3 as roughly three years since the Kerberos mission took off. That means the show is pushing two years of adventures. 
> 
> This is a loose timeline, the show moves fast, but also keep in mind time for the paladins will be different than Earth time. When you travel faster than light, as they do via wormhole and even in the lions (the minutes it takes to get from Earth to Kerberos is exhibit A), time slows for you and speeds up for everyone else. A wormhole jump is instant for the team, it could be months for Earth. Thus, while they’ve been gone from Earth for two years, it doesn’t feel like that to them and they haven’t aged that much. It’s more like 1.5 years to the paladins.
> 
> However, it takes a while for a bunch of planets to be freed and a proper alliance, with a council, to form. It didn’t exist at the end of S02. But by S03E01, the team was working smoothly with the Blade of Mamora and had liberated several places. Lotor had also been found in his exile, rejoined the ranks, and was around long enough to start rumors. Thus, I figure several months went by between Season 2 and Season 3. (I call out five months specifically) Shiro had been in Galra control for maybe half of that, but he remembers little of the whole thing and so doesn’t recall that detail. 
> 
>  
> 
> **What’s up with Black and Shiro/ Operation Kuron** Because I don’t think I’ll actually get to explore what’s going on in the next fic, and it very much impacts what was done here and maybe future stuff, I’ll explain what I headcanon is going on here.
> 
> Project Kuron is not about cloning Shiro directly – the technology isn’t quite there yet to fool the lions (though it could fool the paladins) Instead, it’s about cloning the neural passage ways Shiro uses to connect to Black. Alteans are amazing with wetware – the integration of hardware, software, and biosystems (particularly the brain). And Haggar’s tossed in magic with that. Zarkon is still obsessed with the Black Lion, but having that connection cut Project Kuron succeeded in doing the next best thing – cloning Shiro’s link to Black and linking him to Zarkon.
> 
> Zarkon doesn’t need to find the Black Lion, who has such a powerful mind and can kick him out, if he can follow the much weaker paladin. This is what’s causing Shiro’s headache.
> 
> And, like the bond between paladins and lions, emotions and images can pass between Zarkon and Shiro.
> 
> Of course, Zarkon is in a coma, but something Haggar didn’t count on was Lotor’s mind being similar enough to Zarkon’s that he can also tap into that link. The brief bit in S03 with Lotor predicting Voltron’s moves just as Shiro is suggesting them? It’s his unconsciousness connection with Shiro’s mind. He doesn’t know it, Shiro doesn’t know, and Black also doesn’t know it. But Black can sense something is off, different in Shiro’s head, and until she knows what it is she’d doing her best to protect the other lions and paladins. 
> 
> I do have a sequel in my head - Sam and Shiro's adventures on a slave planet - but let's be honest. While I might start it before the next season I won't finish, so I'm holding off. Who knows - Season 4 might change things. 
> 
> Questions? Want updates on things? Or just want to know what I'm reading that taking away from writing? [I'm always on Tumblr.](http://uniasus.tumblr.com/)


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